(2014)
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon